


Born of Sparks

by EarthsEllipse



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Potion Master! Madara, Senju Clan - Freeform, Seriously this will be a long story, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Trans! Tobirama, Uchiha Clan - Freeform, Warring States Period (Naruto), lots of world building, magic! au, very slow burn, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-16 00:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15425124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthsEllipse/pseuds/EarthsEllipse
Summary: Living as the second heir to the Senju throne, Tobirama couldn't be happier; residing in the grand house with his books, his magic, and his brothers. To him, they are his entire world. To lose them would be unimaginable. But when Itama and Kawarama fall ill and his father makes a terrible mistake, it is he who has to live with the consequences, and his life becomes something he couldn't fathom. Training to fight alongside his brothers and his clan is lax compared to being forced to defend his new home with tooth and claw. Magic runs rampant in his new reality, and only the strongest can hope to survive. Who can the Senju turn to when he's stuck in a foreign land, and will he find the determination to return home?





	1. The Forest

The soft orange glow of the afternoon sun shone quietly through the thin, green leaves of ancient twisting trees. That summer, the forest had been blessed with light rains for two days and three nights, leaving the foliage with a thin layer of moisture, to remember what had not yet been taken by the summer’s heat. 

  
Two small figures crouched behind one of the many prickly berry bushes; their feet and knees covered in a thick mud from their hiding place. Whispers and the the rustling of leaves could be heard coming from the bush, but not by what had caught their eyes: a deep sapphire dragonfly, resting on an ancient rotting trunk that had fallen many years before.

  
“Look! Over there!” one of them whispered, pointing towards the insect.  


“Yeah, I see it‒ I wanna catch it so I can show Nii-san,” the other murmured excitedly.  


“I wanna show Nii-san too. How’re you gonna get it?”  


“Maybe you could run up and distract it and I’ll come at it from the other side and catch it!”  


“Cool!” the first whispered, his fingers twitching in anticipation.  


“On three, okay?”  


“Ready.”  


“One, two‒,” but the younger boy had already taken off toward the dragonfly. Long before the boy had a chance to come close to the insect, it had heard his footsteps and it fled into the labyrinth of thick foliage.  


“No! Come back!” the younger shouted in dismay.  


“Follow it!”  


The shorter boy chased after the small blue blur, sprinting as fast as he could after the sapphire bug with his companion following closely behind him.  


As the insect lead the two through the dense woodland, neither noticed how the forest seemed to change. Before either could realise it, the two found themselves chasing their prey right out of the forest and into the open grassland that surrounded the trees. Their chase was quick to end, because as soon as the dragonfly flew into the open plains, its colors blended with that of the sky above; appearing to lose its form and become one with the heavens above.  


“Can you still see it?” the child asked, who was following the other as he emerged from behind a tree at the border of the plains.  


“No, I lost it,” the other replied. He sighed in defeat, “I’m sorry, Kawarama.” He turned his head to look at his brother. His eyebrows peaked up in shame and his eyes traveled to the ground. Suddenly, a shout could be heard in the distance. Both brothers turned to face the direction of the sound as the wind blew the rest of the message away from their perking ears.  


“Did you hear that?” Itama asked, his face morphed from dismay to curiosity.  


“Yeah, I did. What was it?”  


Again, the shout echoed across the open moore. Itama began to walk in the direction of the voice, squinting and straining his eyes to see someone in the endless sea of tall grass. Suddenly, his eyes focused on a small dent in the endless waves of the yellow wildlife.  


“I… I-I see something!” he shouted with glee. “It’s over there, by the pathway!”  


Their feet thundered across the hard packed dirt, both of them running as fast as they could toward what they had seen‒and hopefully what they had heard. Their small bodies forced the tall grass to part as they charged onward. As they continued to run, they came to a path slicing through the ocean of the moore. Originally intended for merchants, with their oxen and carts, to move their goods through the grassland and to the better maintained roads of the outer cities, it had fallen into disrepair from the lack of such travelers. A road that would have been paved with limestone and ornamented by signs of use was instead filled with dust and dirt that had long since dried out. An old decrepit road along which no one walked; it would be perfect for the two boys to find what they had heard.  


As the soles of their feet thumped against the road, a pounding noise echoed through the moore. It did not go unheard.  


“Who’s there?” a voice asked from around a looping bend in the road. As soon as they heard the voice, both brothers came to a screeching halt, uncertain if it was the one who shouted from before. As they tilted their heads to look at one another, neither made a sound. Itama wore an expression of confusion; Kawarama wore one of fear.  


The younger brother inhaled a long breath, and called out with all the courage he could muster, “Hello? Is anyone there?”  


“Who are you?” the voice demanded.  


Itama looked to Kawarama and spoke yet again.  


“I’m Itama, I heard you screaming from over there.”  


“Where is ‘over there’?” the voice replied, more relaxed than before.  


“By the forest. Oh! And my brother’s here too.”  


“There’s two of you?” the man asked as Itama inched along the road.  


“Yes?”  


“Can you please help me? I can’t get out.”  


At his words, Itama came rushing along the road with his brother close behind. Their feet pounded the ground and propelled them past the bend in the road. Once they reached the man, Itama’s eyes widened, not in fear, but shock. Before them was where the voice had been coming from: a tall, old man with a head of white hair, his back pressed against the ground. Trapped by a toppled cart spilling over with potatoes. Kawarama almost laughed when he saw it. Almost. The helpless man reached his only arm that wasn’t stuck under the cart toward the two brothers.  


“Please‒ Please help me,” he begged.  


Itama looked to Kawarama asking for guidance. He wouldn’t be able to help the man alone; if they did it, they would do it together. His brother nodded, and both of them rushed over to either corner of the cart and prepared to lift. Both of them grunted with effort and pulled the cart up, potatoes falling out as they did so. With just enough room above his body, the man crawled his way from out under the cart.  


After he was free, neither of them could hold on any longer, and dropped the cart with a shout. Itama kneeled to look over at the man. “Are you alright?” he asked.  
“Yes, I’m fine now. Thanks to you,” he answered gratefully.  


With the man out from underneath the cart, the brothers could get a better look at the old individual. His clipped white hair and short beard were a caked with dirt and his simple grey clothing was worn thin from spending long hours in the hot sun. His feet were bare and tough, a citizen from one of the nearby farming villages. The man met Itama’s eyes and smiled. “Thank the goddess I’m alive,” he muttered.  


Kawarama looked to his brother in confusion. “Goddess?” he said quizzically.  


The man focused his gaze on Kawarama. “Do you not know who I’m talking about, boy?”  


“Who’s the goddess?” Itama asked.  


“The goddess. Amaterasu. Don’t you know of her?” the man had no idea that there were people who didn’t know of his savior.  


“No, we’ve only ever heard of the Sage,” Itama replied.  


“The Sage? Well, I’ve heard of him before. The Sage of, oh what was it. The Sage of‒of Six Paths, correct?”  


“Yeah! That’s him,” Itama exclaimed.  


“But who’s the goddess?” Kawarama repeated.  


“You want to know?” he said.  


“Who is she?” Itama demanded.  


“Well, if you’ll let me tell her story I’ll gladly do so.” The man patted the ground beside him. “Come. I’ll tell if you’ll listen.”  


Both brothers took their places on either side of the man. When they were seated with their ears open, eager to hear the tale of the man’s goddess, he cleared his throat and began to speak.  


“Amaterasu. She‒well, where do I begin? So many things to say about her,” the man’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I suppose I’ll start at the very beginning. At the birth of the universe, the gods were created before anything else. Some gods were good and some were bad, and some were‒”  


“Was the goddess good?” Itama interrupted.  


“Yes, of course. She was the nicest goddess there ever was, or will be. She was kind, intelligent, beautiful. She was… amazing. And there was something very special about her, do you know what that was?”  


Both brothers looked up at the man in amazement. “No, what was it?” Itama asked.  


“She had enough light in her soul that it would spill out from her and onto others, and it was because of this light that she was able to be so kind. Because of her light, she could see the beauty in everyone and everything. She could accept someone just the way they were, no matter how many horrible things they had done, because she could see the one good thing that everyone had. No matter how much bad they had done to drown out that good in them.  


She began to travel the universe in hopes for a place that would welcome her light, a place that she could call ‘home’. She traveled for eons and eons, never finding a place that suited her. Until she finally found her home. That’s when she came here, to our lands. When she came here, and her light touched the very earth beneath our feet, this land began to warm and things began to grow. Great forests, deserts, savannas, grasslands, tundras, they all began to emerge from the ground and burst forth into life. The earth itself was so blessed by these gifts it began to cry and wail its thanks to the goddess.”  


“Is that rain?” Kawarama asked.  


“Yes, that’s rain. And because of the rain, oceans began to appear, and rivers, lakes, and canals. And eventually, from all of these gifts that the goddesses’ light had given the earth, man emerged. When the goddess saw us, she saw what incredible good we all had within us. She had never seen any other creatures like our kind. No others.” The man’s gaze turned somber. “Because of what she saw, she knew that she wanted to give us the best chance that we could have to preserve the light within ourselves‒to not taint it as others had‒, and she allowed her light to shine from up above in the heavens forever.”  


“She became the sun?” Kawarama guessed.  


The old man sighed, “Yes. She gave her life so we could always have ours.”  


“That’s sad,” Itama frowned. “She sounded like a good person.”  


“She was,” he paused. “She would have liked you.”  


“Really?” Itama asked.  


He chuckled, “Yes, really. She would have loved two boys that saved an old man from his fate under a potato cart.”  


All three of them laughed and giggled, their shoulders shaking. “What happened with the goddess before she came to Earth?” Kawarama inquired, now more curious than ever.  


“Ah well, that’s a long story. Care to listen a bit more?”  


“Yeah!”  


As the afternoon turned to evening, the man told the story of how the goddess had found their lands and how she had began to fall in love with the creatures she had helped to create. His voice flowed all throughout the evening as both boys listened to his story. As the man rambled on into the evening, the sky was stained with streaks of oranges, reds, and pinks as sunset began.  


Suddenly, the man began to breathe erratically, and coughed uncontrollably, doubling over and holding his stomach as his eyes squeezed shut. “Mister? Mister, are you okay?” Itama asked. The man’s hand flew to the nearby stalks of grass and tried to find something to hold onto as he bent over and vomited onto the hard packed dirt.  


Kawarama was concerned as he sat beside him. “Mister, do you need help?”  


Abruptly the man’s vomiting came to a stop and his breathing slowly became less choking inhales and more controlled. He exhaled a long breath and turned to first face Kawarama, then to Itama. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine. I’m afraid I’ve just got a small cold.” Neither of the brothers were satisfied with his answer, and the man could tell. “Don’t fret about me. I’ll be fine. You’ve already helped me enough for one day,” he gazed out towards the evening sky. “Hmm, it’s gotten quite late. Your parents must be worried. I’m afraid I’ve got to say goodbye.”  


The man stood up and slowly pulled his cart off of the ground with the help of the two Senju boys. Once the man and his cart were standing upright again, Kawarama and Itama waved goodbye. The eldest brother grabbed Itama by the arm and began to rush back along the path towards the forest. The man waved back, but he never knew if either saw.

 

“Yuno, please get your brothers. The food is ready.”  


“Yes, Okaa-san.”  


“And tell Hashirama that he has to eat dinner with us tonight,” she added. “Your father is going to be here, and I would appreciate it if you acted… normal.”  
“Yes, Okaa-san.”  


Two feet skimmed along the wooden floorboards as the boy quietly walked to his brother’s room near the foot of the wooden stairs leading to the upper floors of the Grand House. He knocked lightly on the door first and waited for his brother to answer. The door remained shut and, seeing no other options, he burst through the door and found his brother half way through the window to the gardens outside. He huffed in annoyance, It’s going to hurt when he falls, but he deserves it. As soon as he knew he was spotted, Hashirama tried to push himself through the window with all of the might he could muster in his thin arms, but Tobirama grabbed onto his foot and violently pulled him down to the floor with a loud thump!  


“Ow!” he exclaimed as he rubbed his back in pain, “Why’d you have to do that?”  


“Okaa-san has food ready and she wants you to eat it with all of us.”  


“All of us?”  


“Yes.”  


“Are you sure she meant all?”  


His eyes glared in annoyance for the second time since his mother’s request.”Yes.” he sternly replied.  
“Since when did he get here?”  


“I don’t know. I don’t even know if he is here. All Okaa-san said was that Otou-san would be here at dinner and to be on our best behaviors,” Tobirama replied.  
“Dang,” he pouted.  


“Come on, you’ve got to go to the dining room. I’ll find Kawarama and Itama and bring them in as soon as you leave your room.” He looked around the cluttered mess. “You ought to clean in here. It smells, and it looks like you’ve let some of the outside in.” The room was filled with a jumble of different kinds of plants and wet dirt. Unfortunately, Hashirama was still stubborn to the fact that the plants from the outside would not grow as well on the inside. Hence, the mess of both dead and dying wildlife on top of the floor and mats.  


“Hey! Don’t make fun of me! You’ve hardly got anything in your room but plain books.”  


“Just go, I’ll meet you there soon. And my books don’t leave dirt everywhere that the staff have to clean up.”  


“Fine, I’ll go,” he said reluctantly. “But I’m keeping my plants!”  


Hashirama skipped out and down the long hallway to the dining room as Tobirama began to search the rest of the house for his other brothers. To his dismay, both of their rooms were empty, as were their various frequented rooms. His mind was so focused on finding where they could be, that he didn’t realise exactly where he himself was, and bumped into one of the house servants as he was walking towards the kitchen. The teapot she was holding lept from her hands and onto the ground, her own body following suit while Tobirama’s knees felt the impact of the wood beneath them.  


“Oh! I’m so sorry, Yuno-san,” the servant said as she bowed her head in shame, “Please, forgive me.”  


“It’s okay, Yui-san,” he said. “Have you seen Kawarama or Itama recently?”  


She furrowed her brow in deep thought as she tried to remember. “Hmm… I can’t say that I have. I’m sorry, Yuno-san.” She turned to continue on with her work and saw one of the older servants passing down the hallway perpendicular to theirs. “Misu-san!” she called out.  


“What is it, Yui?” the old maid called back, her arms full of cloth to be transported and her thoughts full of annoyance for the young woman’s interruption.  


“Yuno-san was wondering if I had seen Kawarama-san or Itama-san, but I haven’t. Have you seen them recently?” she asked, hoping that she would receive some sort of answer to help Tobirama.  


The old woman replied, “Yes, I just saw them entering in through the back gates,” and continued on with her journey to the weaving room.  


“So they’ve got to be in gardens outside,” Tobirama deduced. He turned to the servant girl, “Thank you, Yui-san.”  


“Oh! It was my pleasure to help,” she replied, and began to wipe up the tea on the floor with a spar rag.  


Tobirama ran towards one of the many doors to the gardens and gave it a great big shove to open it, letting in some of the cool, autumn air. The sunset was just beginning to end, showering the wildlife with a warm, orange light. He barely had time to notice as he ran along the pathways of large, smooth stones. Across the small wooden bridges over the small, domestic rivers that traversed the gardens. The grass underneath his feet was a welcome adjustment to the hard, unforgiving wood of the indoors. As he began to work his way from the east side of the gardens to the west, he caught sight of two small figures sitting in the branches of one of the large willow trees beside a small riverbank.  


“Kawarama!” he shouted out, “Itama!”  


Both heads turned toward Tobirama and the boys jumped from their places nestled in the tree branches. “Yuno?” Itama cried out.  


Tobirama sighed in annoyance at the use of that name. “Yes, it’s me. Okaa-san said that the food was ready. Otou-san’s going to be there, so we’ve got to be there soon.” At the mention of their father, both boys began to sprint toward the east side of the gardens, where they could use one of their favorite ways into the house: a small tunnel from the outside of the house that lead into the kitchen. None of the brothers knew when the tunnel was built or why, all they cared was that it was a convenient way to get from the outdoors to the indoors. All three of them made their way through the tunnel and into the kitchen where‒luckily‒there was only one of the servants in the room. They sneakily made their way through the kitchen unnoticed and walked the rest of the way to dining room, where their mother and Hashirama were already waiting for them.  
“Yuno, what took you so long?” she asked, her tongue laced with annoyance.  


“I’m sorry, Okaa-san. I found them outside in the gardens, but I didn’t know to look there first,” he replied.  


She sighed, knowing there was no point in continuing the conversation, and beckoned for them to sit. The table in front of them was filled with food: warm rice, steaming sui-gyoza, udon, onigiri, and fresh soba sat right in front of the family. Their delicious aromas wafted up towards Tobirama’s nose, and his mouth watered with a heightened hunger.  


Itama was the first to speak. “Where’s Otou-san?”  


“He’ll be here soon,” his mother replied.  


“Can’t we eat without him?”  


“No, we have to wait for your father.”  


All four brothers and their mother waited in uncomfortable silence, until they finally heard a pair of loud footsteps coming toward the dining room with its low table and awaiting platter of hot dishes. Standing at the doorway was their father, Senju Butsuma, dressed in his casual clothes as if he had been at the house the entire time whilst Tobirama was searching.  


“Welcome home, husband,” lady Senju said.  


“Thank you, Hana,” he replied. His eyes landed on Tobirama. “Good evening, Yuno,” he greeted coldly.  


“Good evening, Otou-san,” he said, his voice steady and unwavering.  


Butsuma’s steely eyes didn’t leave his gaze, staring straight back into his son’s red irises. Silence began to envelop the room yet again, but all of the brothers were too hungry now to ignore their chance.  


“Father’s here, can we eat now?” Itama begged his mother.  


“Yes. Now, we may eat.”  


The head of the Senju clan took his place at the head of the table, and all six members of the Senju household began to eat as the sunset finally ended and the stars began to peak out onto the canvas of dark sky. The forest that the boys had played in grew dark and cold, while the winds of the moore blew fiercely as it created chopping waves in the seas of grass. Servants began to light candles in the Grand House, giving off an orange glow and making it look from a distance as though the house itself were simply another candle that someone had lit.  


Along the road that traversed through the plains, a lone man pushed his cart along the road. His gaze was weak and his body was even more so. His resilience had finally given out and, like a flame being extinguished as the the Senju brothers went to sleep, he collapsed onto the ground; his death unknown to all but the stars and the moon above.  


“Oh goddess…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sui-gyoza: a gyoza that is boiled in water or soup broth to give the gyoza wrapper a tender and chewy consistency  
> Udon: a type of noodle made form a thick wheat flour  
> Onigiri: a triangular japanese rice ball wrapped in nori (edible seaweed)  
> Soba: noodles made from a buckwheat flour
> 
> Thank you for reading the first chapter of Born of Sparks! This is my first work that I have posted on AO3, and I would appreciate any feedback you have to give me, whether it be negative or positive. Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and I will answer as many questions as I can if you have any. Constructive criticism is especially wanted, so if you have any please tell me.  
> As for an update schedule, I don't really have one, but I will try to update as soon as I can with some kind of regularity (whether that be once a week or once every two weeks). As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed chapter one!


	2. Daifuku and the Fox

The light of dawn had begun to break, sharing its warmth and rays of light with the night sky. Stars crawled back to their homes in the heavens and the moon rested her eyes as the sun rose to bid her to rest. The crickets ended their nocturnal symphonies and the the butterflies awoke to let the sun warm their patterned wings. The silence of the night was replaced with the scuttling of morning, and the day had begun.  


Tobirama quietly slid his door open and tiptoed across the second floor of the house. No one but himself could hear as he made his way to the staircase. His bare feet padded the steps downstairs, softly humming a song he remembered his mother singing to his younger brothers as they drifted to sleep. He carried a thin book, it’s cover damaged with age and worn with use. Once he reached the last stair, he flattened his back against the near wall and peered out into the open, searching for anyone else that was wandering the house. If he was caught, he would be forced to return back to his room to rest, and the book clutched against his chest would be taken away. _Undoubtedly_ , he thought.  


He slunk towards the large, heavy door, leading to the east side of the gardens. Just last night he had opened the doors with the sickening dread that his father would be waiting for him in the dining room when he came with his brothers in tow. It was what propelled his feet to run faster; that same fear convincing his brothers to sprint back to their hidden tunnel. Now, however, he could enjoy the feeling of the cool morning air against his bare arms, wearing his sleeveless shirt. No one was awake in the house, no one knew he was here. As he stepped outside, he took a long inhale of the morning air, the fresh scent of the morning dew and wet grass filled his nose.  


He trekked towards the northern grove, overgrown with a vast collection of tall, dark pine trees. Their needles covered the forest floor with a thin layer of the dark green leaves and showered the miniature forest with their sharp scent. Tobirama roamed the grove, his book tucked away underneath his arm, pressed against his side. The morning sunlight peered through the layers and layers of pine leaves, acting as an unnecessary protection for the inhabitants‒small ferns and such‒below. The needles cast thin, angular shadows across the ground, leaving the ground with a prickly look to it. He was as silent as a fox as he crushed the fallen leaves with his bare feet, the needles wouldn’t snap under his soles.  


Eventually, Tobirama arrived at a part of the forest where the sun had no competition for shadows to be made. A large clearing stretched out in front of him, with thick trees surrounding the edges of the dell like the soldiers that protected his clan’s borders. The ground was a carpet of thick, green clovers that covered Tobirama’s feet and rose up to his ankles. The plantlife of the clearing lead to a gently sloping hill, atop which sat three smooth, grey boulders. They absorbed the light from the sun and warmed at the first light of morning until sunset. When he and his brothers found the clearing, they had given them the name, sunning rocks. Tobirama smiled at the foot of the boulders. _It was a fitting name_ , he thought.  


He scaled up the rocks with the book held between his teeth as he climbed up to the top of the highest rock. Although they absorbed the sun’s light they also reflected it, and Tobirama could feel their captured warmth as he pulled himself up to the top of the boulder. He slowly leaned back until his legs stretched out before him and his arms spread his sides like the wings of a hawk, whilst his head tilted up towards the sky. He smiled as his eyes began to close‒not for rest, but in contentment.  


Long weeks had passed since he had traveled to the wood of pine and the sunning rocks. His father’s strict schedule always began in the early hours of the morning and lasted until late at night when the stars had returned to their place among the heavens. He would train with his sons for hours upon hours, teaching them lessons that they would need on the battlefield. How to properly wield their katana and wakizashi, how to enhance their speed and strength with chakra, and how to cut down enemies twice their size were all lessons he had entrusted to his sons. The clan head would spar with his children, especially Tobirama, in hand-to-hand combat, dominating them during randori sessions always trying to push them past their limits. Hashirama could last for minutes sparring with his father relying on his strength, but Tobirama had to use his wit to survive the fierce randori. Luckily, he would be less brutal with Kawarama and Itama, sparing them of the violence he directed towards his two eldest sons. Always, he and his brothers would find themselves sore and exhausted afterwards, and his father berating them for being so weak. He would scorn them, saying how they would never survive out in battle with the kind of effort they put into training. When the second Senju heir looked back to see his father, he would sense the disdain and disapproval in his father’s eyes as the looked into his own. It was odd how he always appeared to be looking at Tobirama more than his other children, yet he offered no further kindness toward his son.  


Yet he would strive for his father’s approval and acceptance, putting in long hours of grueling conditioning to last a couple more seconds against his father, sacrificing his free time to learn jutsus that might impress him, that might earn him his respect. But, in the words of his father, he could never seem to do enough. Nothing was ever enough, always‒but he hoped not forever.  


His fingers twitched around the book he had placed upon his chest, bringing him out of his memory and into the present moment. His pushed himself up with his arms and sat cross legged as his eyes opened and focused on the cover of the old, thin book that had slid onto his lap. Its faded title read, The Seven Keys of Azuzen, by Watanabe Akihiko. He remembered when he had first read the novel as a small toddler, completely enraptured by the many short stories of the kodama, wani, and the hitodama that had lived around a village inhabited by families of yurei. Now, he would laugh at the ridiculousness of the story and its fantastical creatures, but as a child it had intrigued him and kept him in the family library searching for more books about the fantastical creatures he longed to see. He had pulled insistently on his mother’s robes, begging her to tell him more stories of the wani‒his favorite creature‒until she yelled at him to stop touching her expensive clothing and to go to his father if he really wanted to hear stories. He never dared to beg from his father, so he only had the novel to consult for information about the dragon of the sea. However, its purpose had changed since he had first laid eyes upon the text. Instead of craving information, he used it’s casing to create a facade of his own.  
He opened the book and flipped through the pages of his own handwriting and diagrams, jutsus and chakra control techniques copied down onto the papers. Once he found the page he needed, his fingers stopped turning the pages of the book and he set it down upon the stone surface facing the sky. He stood up and tilted his head to read the words on the page.  


‘If beginner, calm yourself before starting,’ it read.  


He inhaled a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes as he exhaled. He relaxed his arms and tried to feel the chakra running through his body, like blood through his veins. All living things possessed chakra, no matter if they could use it or not. Most humans were unable to use the energy for the same reason most animals couldn’t: a lack of training and knowledge.  


‘First, control chakra in the fingertips.’  


He imagined his chakra as flowing water, as rivers that lead all throughout his body just like the streams that he had seen running all through the gardens. Slicing across the earth, without a care for what was in their path. Once he had a clear picture of the rivers in his mind, he grit his teeth in concentration and he tried to imagine diverting the flowing streams to the tips of his fingers, like the tributaries that ran towards deltas and lakes. With one of his eyes, he peeked at his hands to see a soft, blue glow coming from each of his fingertips, and quickly shut his eye again.  


‘Second, spread chakra outward to the palms.’  


He willed the chakra in his fingertips to reach across to his palms, imagining rivulets and brooks crossing over his hands until the waterways would flood, coating his hands in the circulating chakra. The glow spread from his fingertips to his hands as he had imagined, reaching up to his wrists.  


‘Finally, form the hand signs.’  


His hands moved and twisted slowly to make the signs.  


Serpent, ram, monkey, tiger.  


He held his breath with anticipation as he thrust the chakra in his hands into the signs, giving them power. His eyes flew open immediately hoping to see the result of the jutsu, but he was greeted with nothing but the empty clearing. He cursed under his breath and his open hands clenched, his knuckles turning white in his frustration. When he peered downwards at the pages, the words ‘Mist Covering Jutsu’ read at the top of the page. It almost seemed to mock him.  


The early morning sunlight was wasted as he tried once again. Over and over again he would focus his chakra into his hands and form the hand signs, over and over again he would yield no results. The glade would remain as clear as glass, no mist for the sun’s rays to shine through.  


Before he could realise it, the morning turned to afternoon and the sun rose high in the sky, its gentle light turning to the regular waves of heat that scorched in the summertime. Tobirama, once eager to rise early and travel to the grove, now could barely feel his fingers and toes. A faint buzzing always rang through his head and he found it harder to concentrate than it had been when he started. He was lucky there was no wind blowing through the glade, he would have surely bent and swayed in the breeze like the pine leaves that surrounded him.  


As he formed the hand signs for the final time, he blew out from his mouth in exhaustion as the chakra flowed out of his hands and into the empty air. When he opened his eyes, a thin layer of mist poured out around the sunning rocks. He whooped and hollered with joy as he looked at his results. “Yes! Ah, yes! Finally!” he exclaimed as he bounced up and down on the warm surface of the boulder. Skipping breakfast, hours of work, exhaustion, were all worth it if it meant he had succeeded. “Whoop! I did it! Ha ha!”  


Suddenly, he felt his toes beginning to slide off of the massive rock as his feet lost their grip on the boulder’s rounded edge. His body twisted mid air and his eyes widened in horror as he felt himself beginning to fall to the ground below. He shut his eyes and stretched out his arms to brace his fall, but he never met the green clovers below. Instead of feeling the lush ground beneath him, his bare arms curled around the broad expanse of the furry body beneath him. His eyes opened in shock and surprise as he was greeted with the sight of the back of the humongous creature. He was nestled in the long, orange fur of some kind of giant animal. Tobirama moved to sit up from the awkward position he had fallen in and saw the head of the beast two arms length in front of him, tall pointed ears with black edges perked up in confusion. Its neck rose and in his disbelief Tobirama lost his grip upon the furry animal, slipping to the ground below with a thud. He groaned in pain. The creature jerked its massive head around to find the source of the sound.  


His body froze in fear. The animals’ head was as big as his torso, decorated with a long, narrow snout like a fox. Although, it appeared to be just that, a titanic fox twice the height of his father with eyes the color of pearls from Uzushio, a village nestled along the coast. Those glassy, pearl eyes had no pupils, only hues of grey that seemed to swirl the longer he stared. Can it see me? Tobirama’s body became like ice, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. The thoughts in his head became still and silent, whilst the pounding of blood in his veins rushed to take its place. Adrenaline coursed through his blood and what little chakra he had gathered in his feet, yet all he could do was stare at the benevolent creature before him.  


The humongous fox rose to its full height on its four paws, keeping eye contact with him all the while. How it managed to do so, he had no idea. If the beast wasn’t blind, why else would it’s eyes be the same color as the skies on a cloudy day?  


Finally, its head turned away and it padded towards the edge of the clearing and into the pine grove. Its long, bushy swishing in time with its steps. It left behind no trace that it had ever been there, no footprints or claw marks followed in its wake. Minutes passed, and Tobirama remained on the ground, his body and mind uncertain of if what he had just seen was real or something that he had imagined in a light headed daze.  


But he couldn’t rest, and a rustling noise came from the behind him and his head jerked towards the trees. His body jumped into a fighting stance, his hands raised at his chest and his legs slightly bent. The rustling grew louder and louder, coming closer and closer as Tobirama grew more tense with each passing second. His knees felt locked in place and his hands began to sweat, despite his father’s training he had never seen actual combat.  


Finally, when he felt he could wait no longer, a small, white head poked out from behind one of the thick, pine trunks. It was a pale rabbit, no bigger than the feral cats that came to visit prowled the streets of a nearby village. The source of the rustling barely cast a glance at Tobirama, and fled back into the forest. Anger bubbled up inside the young Senju, annoyance at his own anxiety and and irritation that what had jostled him was nothing more than a small hare. “Fine then! Run!” Tobirama shouted at it, frustrated that he would be so jumpy. He did just encounter a being he thought to be a hallucination only minutes before, but when someone was as prideful as Tobirama one didn’t bother to take excuses into account. But what was that thing? That, that creature‒  


“I have to tell Hashirama,” he decided. He scrambled up the sunning rocks to grab the book and slowly slid back down before dashing off towards the trees. His thoughts were racing faster than his feet as he sprinted through the grove, pine needles scattering behind him.  


“They’ll never believe me,” he huffed out as he weaved between the thick pine trunks, “Never.” He barged into the house through the same door he had departed from, but as soon as he stepped inside he could feel the same falling sensation. His feet slid out from underneath him on the slick wooden floors and he fell‒yet again‒onto the unforgiving ground. He groaned in pain and rubbed at his knee; he was sure it was going to bruise. He tried to steady himself, but the adrenaline he had been relying on for his journey home was beginning to run out of stores and the symptoms of lightheadedness returned. He stumbled forward and propped himself on the nearby wall for support. His vision became hazy and blurred, the sounds he heard were becoming more and more abstract. _What’s happening?_ he wondered. He shook his head to try and clear his mind of the fogginess that was enveloping his thoughts.  


When he opened his eyes, unsure of when he had shut them in the first place, he found his legs crumpled beneath him on the floor. _What’s going on?_ he thought. I need to be standing, how else am I going to tell Hashirama?  


His eyes remained gazing on the floorboards until he heard someone above him, their voice becoming clearer as the moments passed. It wasn’t enough to make out all of what they were saying, but he could catch fragments of their speech before they drifted away in the soupiness of his mind.  
“...ello… ear me? … llo? ... ait her…. et ...isu…”  


When he tilted his head to look at the speaker, he was greeted with a blur of moving colors. Moving away from him. The figure before him left as quickly as she had come, leaving Tobirama to try and organize his thoughts as he tried yet again to stand upright. He inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower, focusing only on breathing. With the return of oxygen to his blood and to his brain, his thoughts became less foggy as did his vision and hearing. Now, he could both hear and see the two women striding towards his position slumped against the wall.  


“Misu-san, I don’t know what’s wrong with her,” Yui‒the ‘someone’ he couldn’t understand‒gestured towards him.  


“Yui, leave this to me. I’ve dealt with enough children to figure out what’s going on.”  


Tobirama looked up and saw Misu, the eldest servant of the house. Her grey hair tied up in a bun atop her head and her sleeves rolled up her arms, tanned from hours of work. She looked nothing like his mother, whose skin was the usual pale shade‒although not nearly as pale as himself‒of a woman in the Senju clan.  


“Misu-san?” Tobirama’s head quirked to the side.  


“Yes, it’s me, Yuno-san.”  


“Why are you here?”  


“Yui brought me here and said that you wouldn’t respond to her. Now, hold out your wrist for me, there, just like that.”  
“What’s wrong with her?” Yui worried, her fists clenched in the cheap cloth of her beige working clothes, the only ones she owned. The only ones she was allowed to own.  


“Mhmm, oh yes, I can feel it. I know what’s going on‒”  


“What?”  


“Extensive chakra loss. That’s what has her so dizzy.” The elder servant glared accusingly at the second Senju heir. “You’ve been wearing yourself out, haven’t you?”  


“What if I have been?” Tobirama tried to push himself off of the wall, but his caretaker’s arms wrapped around his body and he was hoisted into the air like a newly-wed bride.  


“Huh? Put me down!” he shouted.  


“I can’t do that. There’s the risk you’ll just go outside and do it again,” she looked at him, concern shown plainly across her features. “Do you know what happens if you use up all your chakra?”  


“If you use up most of it, you would fall unconscious,” he answered.  


“I said ‘all of it’,” she repeated.  


“You’d collapse and,” he looked up at the woman holding him in her arms, “die.”  


“So before you fall unconscious or die, would it be so awful if I took care of you?” she asked, an unusual kindness present in her voice.  


“No, I suppose.”  


“Good. Have you had breakfast?” she asked as she adjusted him in her arms.  


“No.”  


“Bah, you Senju children never eat in the mornings,” she peered over her shoulder to look at the younger servant waiting behind her. “Yui! Grab us some daifuku from the kitchen and bring it to the weaving room. I’ll be waiting with Yuno-san!” she shouted, mimicking the commanding voices of the chefs when the evening meal would need to be made.  


“Of course, Misu-san! Right away,” she called back as she dashed off to grab a plate of the small confections. The old woman ambled towards the staircase, passing several other servants as she carried Tobirama. They didn’t bother to acknowledge them, too preoccupied with their own work. Porters walked through the hallway carrying goods, others kneeled down to scrub the floors of the wide hallways‒where two men could walk side by side with their lover in arm. When they came to the stairs leading to the upper levels of the house, Misu tightened her grip on the young boy and made her way up the stairs‒careful not to jostle him. Although she wouldn’t be described as gentle, she was not unkind. Especially not to a child.  


She ascended the stairs and traversed through the main corridor of the upper floor. As she carried him into a passageway, branching off from the one she had entered, the boy in her arms jerked his head towards one of the rooms. His eyes were locked on the open doorway, and the old woman noticed two voices coming from it.  
“What is it, Yuno-san?” Misu asked, as she paused abruptly.  


“Can you bring me over there?” he said, wiggling one of his arms free to point towards the door frame.  


“Why?”  


“That’s Kawarama and Itama’s room,” he explained.  


“Yes, I know. But that doesn’t explain why you want to go there.”  


“I have to tell them something,” he explained as he turned back towards her. His thoughts returned to the grand creature he had seen, its pearl eyes taking him in all at once and not at all.  


She resumed walking, away from the room and the voices inside. “You can tell them later. Right now, we’re going to my favorite room in this damn house, we’re going to eat some daifuku, and you’re going to tell me how you became so chakra deprived you nearly passed out on the floor.”  


“Hey!” Tobirama exclaimed. “That wasn’t part of the deal!” When the old woman didn’t bother to respond, Tobirama let out a huff of frustration, crossing his pale arms across his chest as best he could in his current position.  


When they finally reached the weaving room at the south end of the second floor, Misu carefully laid Tobirama on one of the many thick tatami mats that covered the floor. A large loom sat in the corner of the room with string and yarn sitting in shelves that adorned three walls of the rectangular room. All shades of hues sat in the shelves, blues and greens that reminded Tobirama of moss at the small riverbanks roosted in the upper levels while reds and oranges were laid out amongst purple and pink string beneath. Greys and blacks filled the bottom shelves just barely above the floor.  


Misu slowly lowered herself onto the ground, sitting cross legged in front of Tobirama. Her stern, dark eyes had a warmth of kindness when she looked at the second Senju heir.  


Tobirama cocked his head to the side as he heard footsteps racing down the hallway, and Yui slid the thin door open with her free hand. The other was holding their plate of daifuku, the small anko-filled balls resting on the white plate.  


“Misu-san! I’m so sorry, the daifuku took longer than usual to find, and then the chefs thought I was lying so I had to convince them that you actually wanted daifuku for Yuno-san, and then‒” Yui wheezed as she tried to catch her breath. “And then there was this commotion downstairs and I don’t know what happened but‒”  
“Yui, calm. Take a breath,” Misu assured her.  


“Or several,” Tobirama added under his breath.  


“I’m an old woman, and I’m a bit slow. It’s fine if you got here later than you expected,” she continued. “Thank you for bringing the sweets,” she said, taking the platter from her hands and placing it between herself and the Senju. The younger servant quickly left the room, her footsteps much lighter when she existed than when she had come barrelling in. Tobirama looked from the plate of sweets to the old servant and back to the mochi balls. His mouth began to water, he could practically taste the confections just a foot away.  


The old woman laughed heartily, not being able to resist the humorous sight of the usually serious heir. “Eat,” she insisted, “I had them brought up for you.” Tobirama needed no further permission and snatched one of the daifuku, covering the pads of his fingers with its sticky texture. He bit into the soft skin and hummed in delight. Neither dorayaki nor dango would ever taste as good to Tobirama, remaining faithfully loyal to his favorite treat. The sweet taste of the red bean paste covered his taste buds as he stuffed the small confection into his mouth, his elbows resting on his knees as he chewed the outside layer of mochi. Misu smiled and took one of the sweets herself, biting into it slowly, savoring the sugary flavor. She knew that it would probably be the last mochi ball she would eat before her life came to a close‒not even the lives of the servants in the grand house were luxurious. As she was just beginning to munch on the pastry, Tobirama had already packed his mouth full with his third daifuku ball. She chuckled, “You seem like you haven’t eaten in months.”  


Tobirama stopping chewing and met her gaze, his cheeks full of the mochi and anko paste. With his bulging cheeks, he resembled a squirrel with nuts stuffed its mouth. He quickly swallowed the food, his face and the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Misu-san.”  


“Don’t apologize, just eat slower. Chakra exhaustion can leave you very hungry,” she explained.  


“How would you know that?” his eyebrows raised in curiosity.  


The servant’s eyes became distant, gliding down to the mats that covered the floor. A feeling of great shame rose within her, released with her exhale of breath “I was not always a servant here,” she began, her hand retracting from the plate of sweets. “I, I‒” she stuttered.  


“What?” he leaned forward.  


“It’s nothing, Yuno-san.”  


“I want to know,” he insisted, “Please tell me.”  


“It is of no importance‒”  


“Misu-san!” he whined. “Tell me!”  


“Quiet your voice, I’m not allowed to speak of it here,” she hissed.  


“What is ‘it’?” he asked, his voice even louder than before.  


“‘It’ is none of your business!”  


“I want to know!” he screamed. “And you won’t tell me so‒”  


“I was a shinobi!” Tobirama went silent with shock, an abrupt silence filling the space between the two.  


“Really?” he whispered.  


“Yes, a long time ago.”  


“How long ago?”  


“From when I was a young girl until I was a young woman,” she answered.  


“Why’d you come here?”  


“You think I came here by choice? I thought you were smarter than your brothers,” she scoffed.  


“I am!” he insisted. “But, how did you end up here?”  


“It’s a story I’d rather not tell again,” the shame rising once again.  


“Please?” he pleaded, clasping his hands together.  


She sighed, “Fine, I suppose all Senju children like stories.” He held her gaze with an inquisitiveness, it was almost intimidating. As much intimidation as a ten-year-old can inspire in a grizzled woman at seventy-years-old.  


“I was born at the western edge of a wide valley. The valley had such rich soil, that two powerful clans tried to stake their claim on the land. One clan rested at one end of the valley and my clan rested at the other, but each wanted full control of it. Because of this, the other clan battled my own, starting generations before I was born. The fighting evolved from wanting control of the valley to wanting to avenge those who had fallen beside you. They were my family, and my family loves fiercer than any other clan I have known. When someone dies, they do not die without vengeance.  


“My clan taught me to fight, they taught me how to throw a kunai and to control my chakra. I became a soldier, and when I was seven I was sent out to my first battle.” Her hands balled into fists in her lap. “I went out into battle alongside my friend, Sara. I came back, she didn’t,” her hands began to twitch uncontrollably with grief. “I was so angry. I hated them, for killing my friend. For killing my family. I had never gotten to see my father because of them.  


“So I charged to the battlefields, and again, and again. I didn’t know I was leaving more children like myself when I killed the enemy, I didn’t care. I just wanted to gain vengeance for my friend and for my family, and less and less came back each time. But one day, I couldn’t go back to the battle again,” she reached for Tobirama’s hand and stared at him with her dark eyes. “I was captured... by your people.”  


“You were an Uchiha,” he whispered.  


“I am an Uchiha. I will never forget where I came from,” she said sternly.  


“Y-your eyes‒” he began.  


“My eyes have been damaged. I can see, but I cannot awaken my clan’s power. Your grandfather, he did this to me, when he bound my chakra. Like my brothers and sisters that he had caught.”  


Tobirama was in shock. He didn’t know what to say, “I’m sorry.”  


“You could have done nothing, it was before you were even conceived. Do not try and make up for the mistakes your family has made.” Her hand swiped away a tear that had spilled from the corner of her eye. “Now, you still have to explain what you were doing outside at such an ungodly hour.”  
Tobirama stuffed another piece of daifuku in his mouth, his fingers now very sticky with the remnants of the four sweets he had eaten. He wanted to tell his brothers about what he had seen, not the old woman who ran about the house.  


“You can trust me, Yuno-san. I don’t betray someone’s secrets.” Even without meeting her eyes, he could tell she wasn’t lying. He licked his fingers, and stretched out his legs in a v-shape.  


“I was just out for a walk,” he lied as he reached for yet another piece, but his hand was caught by Misu’s bony fingers, held right above the desert.  


“I offer you daifuku in return for the truth, and you give me lies,” she tisked. Her remaining hand grabbed the plate and settled it on her lap, out of Tobirama’s reach. “Until you can tell me the truth, you can have no more of these.”  


Tobirama pouted, sticking his bottom lip out like a child. Like the child he was supposed to act like. “That’s not fair.” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.  


“How so?”  


He searched his mind for an excuse, but he could utter none. Instead, he pouted, sticking out his lower lip and glaring at the servant. She returned his glare with a look of indifference, and plopped a daifuku ball into her mouth.  


Seeing his favorite treat being eaten right in front of him, Tobirama succumbed to compromise. “I’ll tell you, but you have to give me one,” he motioned towards the sweets.  


“No.”  


“Huh?”  


“You can tell me first, you aren’t going to die,” the old woman chided as she bit into another piece. “You better hurry. There’s only two left, and I’m awfully hungry.” She rubbed her stomach, a smile spreading across her face.  


Although his father would proclaim that Tobirama was practically an adult, the elder servant had other ideas. Even she, a soldier at a much younger age, still held some of the qualities of youth when she was his age. “Okay, okay!” his resolve broke. “I was practicing jutsu at the sunning rocks,” he admitted.  


“What jutsu?”  


“The mist covering jutsu,” he twiddled with his thumbs.  


“Where did you learn that?” she asked intrigued.  


“One of the books from the library explained the hand symbols, and I used some of the techniques that father taught me from other jutsus.”  


“I didn’t know we had any books from the coastal villages,” she mumbled.  


“There aren’t many, just a few,” he explained. “But I think we’re on good terms with them.”  


“Why’d you decide to learn that?”  


“I thought it’d be useful, eventually,” he shrugged.  


Suddenly, a male servant rushed into the room, knocking down some ball of yarn as he burst through the door. “Misu-san! You’re here,” he panted.  


“What’s going on?”  


“Lady Senju wants to see you immediately, and,” he turned to Tobirama, “the clan head demands to see you, Yuno-san.”  


Misu grabbed the plate, two pieces of daifuku still left, and stood slowly; Tobirama following her actions. The old woman turned to him, and said, “We’ll talk another time. I’ll tell you some more stories.” She smiled, and Tobirama felt a warmth withn his chest. She seemed so much more familiar now than she had been a mere twenty minutes ago. _From an Uchiha shinobi to a captured servant_ , he thought.  


“Can she hear me?” the servant asked Misu, Tobirama stood still in the center of the room. Remembering the situation at hand, he raced out of the door. His loud footsteps thundered through the second floor of the house and he sprinted down the stairs, nearly falling in the process.  


“Where is my father?” he asked one of the passing servants on the bottom floor.  


“I think he’s in the training yard, Yuno-san,” he replied.  


Tobirama tore through the house like a man possessed and bounded outside towards the large, open courtyard that his father used for training. As the servant had said, his father stood before him, his eyes glaring down at him.  


“Yuno,” he gestured, “come here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> randori = a term used in Japanese martial arts to describe free-style practice  
> kodama = spirits in Japanese folklore that inhabit trees, similar to dryads in Greek mythology  
> wani = a dragon/ sea monster in Japanese mythology  
> hitodama = meaning "human soul", they are balls fire that mainly float in the middle of the night and are said to be souls of the dead that have separated from their bodies in Japanese mythology  
> yurei = figures in Japanese folklore similar to ghosts in Western legends  
> daifuku = a Japanese confection consisting of a small ball of mochi commonly stuffed with anko (sweetened red bean paste made from azuki beans)  
> dorayaki = a Japanese sweet made of two small pancake-like patties from castella (a popular Japanese sponge cake) wrapped around a filling of sweet Azuki red bean paste  
> dango = a Japanese dumpling and sweet made from mochiko (a form of flour made from finely milled rice)
> 
> Sorry about the delay for the second chapter, Madatobi week had me writing a lot for the prompts‒yet I finished none of them sadly, still working on editting them as I write this. I'm glad I could get this chapter out when I could, school is starting for me very soon, and I will probably keep the schedule of posting once every two weeks‒although I am hoping to be able to post two chapters every two weeks from now on.  
> As always, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated, so if you have any comments, please leave them down below.  
> Also, does anyone know how to make the previous chapter's notes disappear from the next chapter? I'm quite confused, and it would help a lot if someone could tell me how.

**Author's Note:**

> Sui-gyoza: a gyoza that is boiled in water or soup broth to give the gyoza wrapper a tender and chewy consistency  
> Udon: a type of noodle made form a thick wheat flour  
> Onigiri: a triangular japanese rice ball wrapped in nori (edible seaweed)  
> Soba: noodles made from a buckwheat flour
> 
> Thank you for reading the first chapter of Born of Sparks! This is my first work that I have posted on AO3, and I would appreciate any feedback you have to give me, whether it be negative or positive. Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and I will answer as many questions as I can if you have any. Constructive criticism is especially wanted, so if you have any please tell me.  
> As for an update schedule, I don't really have one, but I will try to update as soon as I can with some kind of regularity (whether that be once a week or once every two weeks). As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed chapter one!


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